


pull out this thorn

by Love_Me_Dead



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Silly, duck song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_Me_Dead/pseuds/Love_Me_Dead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick runs a lemonade stand. Louis likes messing with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pull out this thorn

**Author's Note:**

> So this is absolutely ridiculous and unbeta'd so bear with the mistakes.  
> This was inspired from larryflakes' post on Tumblr about The Duck Song and it doesn't quite fit the prompt at all but yeah, it's based off The Duck Song.

It was summer and Nick was bored as hell. He was sitting in the shade behind a homemade lemonade stand, waving at passersby and trying desperately to make some money. So far, his only customers had been a middle-aged couple who only bought a glass so they could also get a bowl of water for their dog and a couple of preteen kids that acted like the fact a teenager was running a lemonade stand was hilarious. And of course there had been the mysterious looking fifty-ish man that eyed him and licked his lips and made Nick extremely uncomfortable.

Nick was currently sitting in his fold-up chair, running a hand through his hair and fighting the urge to kick his feet up on the table. He looks down at the phone in his hands, scrolling through his Twitter and waiting for a customer. A woman with a young son (who’s crying) approaches and quickly buys two glasses of lemonade and Nick pours them both with a smile and a cheery “Enjoy!”. He then leans back with a sigh, hating the heat and wishing he was fit so he could take his shirt off and not scare potential customers off.

It wasn’t like Nick really wanted to be running a lemonade stand but no one in his neighbourhood wanted their lawn cut and he couldn’t handle children or dogs and he wasn’t smart enough to be a tutor and his parents had refused to give him an allowance. But Nick was good at making lemonade so he decided to do the most childish thing possible. He set up a lemonade stand and spent most of his afternoons sitting on the side of the street and handing out lemonade. After all, he had to pay for those concert tickets somehow.

He sighed and looked down at his phone as it vibrated in his hands. He went to his text messaging and saw a message from Harry.

_Soz Grimmy I cnt make it 2day gem’s bday soz agin :(_

Nick taps out a quick reply. _You’d better make it up to me you little shit._

_Im sooo sorry kk I will I prmise_ Harry replied moments after.

_Tell Gemma happy birthday_

Nick sits back, groaning a little. Harry was a year younger than him and he was really an attractive kid. Nick noticed that he always sold a little more lemonade on the days that Harry was with him than the days he was not. Nick would speak to the customers, tell them how much lemonade was while Harry would grin brightly at them and tell them it was fresh, homemade and cold. And once, Harry even made cupcakes to go along with the lemonade and Nick made around fifty pounds that day. Unfortunately, on the last day that Harry was absent, Nick only made around fifteen pounds.

Nick looks down at his Twitter again, scrolling down. Footsteps sound nearby and Nick looks up, plastering a large smile on his face. Walking towards him was a short boy in a duckling-yellow t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts. He had a side-swept brown fringe and a glowing tan and a curious expression on his face. Nick’s immediate nickname for him is Duckling based solely on his t-shirt.

“Hey,” Nick says, grin widening as he realizes how oh this boy is cute, he’s adorable.

“Hey, mate,” Duckling says, nodding a little. “Got any grapes?”

Nick’s brows furrow in confusion. “Uhm, sorry, no. I just sell lemonade. Want a glass?”

Duckling looks like he’s contemplating for a moment, lips clamping together and eyes narrowing as he thinks and the only word Nick has for it is adorable.

“C’mon, it’s fresh and cold and homemade. I squeezed the lemons myself.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll pass.”

And Nick watched him turn and walk away.

 

Nick is at it again the next day, having made very little money yesterday and wishing that Harry were beside him because those tickets go on sale in two weeks and he’s still seventy pounds short. He sits back in the plastic chair, glowering into the bright street and watching a couple of shirtless boys bike past quickly. Nick sort of wants to call after them that he’s selling really refreshing lemonade but those boys bike past every day around this time and they always walk back with ice cream cones and they called him a fag when he last called after them.

So Nick stares into the leaves of a tree and begins wondering how many baby birds were born in that tree when someone clears their throat. He looks up to see Duckling again.

“Hey, mate,” he says again, grinning.

“Hey,” Nick says, biting his lip again.

“Got any grapes?”

Nick shakes his head. “Like I said yesterday, we only sell lemonade. You should give it a try.”

Duckling shakes his head. “Mmm, goodbye.”

And he walks off again.

 

Nick hates it. Harry has the stomach flu and he can’t come by and help sell more lemonade and Nick is getting impatient. He really wants to have the money for those tickets and he doesn’t yet and it’s killing him.

He’s also really confused when Duckling walks up again, hair looking a little messy and his smile bright and cheery and totally the opposite of Nick’s mood.

“Hey, mate,” he says, like he does every day.

Nick rolls his eyes up at him, smiling at him a little.

“Got any grapes?” He asks, like he does every day.

“Look, kid,” Nick says. “This is getting old. Lemonade’s all I sell except for cupcakes sometimes. Why not give it a go?”

Duckling scrunches his face up and Nick kind of wants to slap the look off his face or maybe kiss him. “How about no?” He retorts, walking off again.

Nick lets his head fall onto the table, arms pillowing it. He groans softly because he really does hate that kid but at the same time he really does want to kiss him and he’s not sure if that means he’s insane or not. The kid is annoying and repetitive but he’s also really cute and he thinks it’s kind of funny.

Nick tells this to Harry through text and the boy tells him he’s probably just found his soulmate and it makes Nick want to puke. Soulmates don’t exist. Love hardly exists unless you try hard enough and even then it can be strained and not work out. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in fires that you have to work to keep burning.

 

Duckling comes up the next day as well, looking a little shy and Nick is fucking glad. He better be shy after what he did yesterday and he better be shy for pissing the living shit out of Nick every day for the past few days.

“Hey, mate,” he mumbles.

“Hey,” Nick says because fuck him he breaks a tradition.

“G-got any grapes?” He asks, a mischievous smile spreading over his lips and making his eyes shine.

“That’s it!” Nick shouts, standing so he looms over the boy. “If you come back again tomorrow, I’ll tape you to that tree and I’ll leave you there all day with your mouth taped shut!”

The boy laughs as he runs off, yelling, “Adios!” behind him. 

Nick watches him go before he’s out of sight and he sits down, grabbing his phone and calling Harry.

“What?” Harry answers, sounding quite awful.

“I hate that kid!” Nick fumes, not caring about how Harry’s feeling.

“Nick, just ask him on a date already.”

“No! I won’t because he’s an annoying little bastard.”

“Oh, come on, you love him. Admit it.”

“No! I hate him.”

“Nick, really. He probably fancies you and that’s why he’s doing all that.”

“No, Harry, he’s being an annoying twat and that’s why he’s doing all that.”

Harry burps. “I’ve gotta go,” he says quickly, hanging up and Nick is glad he doesn’t have to listen to Harry vomit.

He lays his head down on the table again, groaning softly because he really will never admit it to anyone and he’s having a hard time admitting it to himself but he quite likes the boy. He’s cute and the way he’s coming every day just to ask for grapes of all things is so endearing. And yeah, he’s attractive and he has a fantastic bone structure and his hair is always perfect and all of his clothes look clean and fresh and yeah Nick might have gotten a little infatuated in the span of a few days.

 

He comes back the very next day as always, this time wearing a black Leeds Fest shirt and a pair of oddly coloured pink shorts that Nick is hesitant to call salmon pink. He sighs as Duckling walks up, grinning widely.

“Hey, mate,” he says.

“Hey,” Nick says because maybe he’s here to buy lemonade for the first time.

“Got any tape?”

“What?”

“Do you have any tape?” Duckling reiterates. 

“Uh… no. Why would I, this is a lemonade – oh.”

His grin widens and his eyes grow impossibly bright with mirth. “In that case, one more question. Got any grapes?” He chuckles a little and it makes Nick’s heart skip a beat.

But Nick watches him, just staring because he’s so fucking brilliant. And he can feel his lips turning up in a smile because what the hell he’s really cute with that look on his face. And soon he’s leaning forward, head in his hands and shaking with laughter. He stays like that for a moment or two before he regains composure and sits back up, looking at Duckling.

“Tell you what,” he says. “Let’s go to the store and get you some grapes.”

Duckling nods quickly, looking very pleased with himself and very happy. 

The walk to the store is hot and short but once they get there, Nick notices that their fingers are entwined. He looks down at it and then up to Duckling’s face. Seeing his expression in a small smile as it was moments ago, he leaves it be, assuming that he started it himself and was too much of a twat to notice. He walks into the store with him, sighing inwardly at the air conditioning that’s blowing on his too-hot skin.

Duckling begins dragging him towards the fruit and Nick follows, grinning a little because of how eager he is. Duckling grabs a box of grapes before pulling him back towards the cash register. Nick pays for the box of grapes and buys himself a coke for the way home because it’s blistering hot out and he’s sick of lemonade. 

The two head back to Nick’s, where they wash the grapes and Nick puts them in a bowl for Duckling, who he now knows is called Louis. (Nick won’t admit this to anyone but he thinks that Louis is a perfect name and it fits him as well as his clothes do.)

They’re standing in the kitchen, Nick washing grapes and making them as dry as he can before dumping them in the bowl and he turns, about to announce that after nearly five days of asking, he finally does have grapes. But what he sees is Louis, standing all too close to him and he has no time to even draw breath for his sentence before Louis is on his tiptoes, leaning up and kissing Nick and his lips conveying his apprehension. And Nick can’t help but kiss back, knees weak and butterflies spawning in his belly.

When they pull apart, they just look at each other for a moment before Nick clears his throat and speaks. “Uh, yo-your grapes,” he mumbles, grabbing the stainless steel bowl.

Louis purses his lips, arms still wrapped around Nick’s neck. “Hmm,” he blinks. “You know? I really don’t feel like grapes anymore.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “You’re endless, aren’t you?”

Louis grins. “How about some lemonade?” He asks, leaning back up to kiss him.


End file.
